


Trust

by AveChameleon



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AveChameleon/pseuds/AveChameleon
Summary: Cheelai is still not sure how much she can trust her new Saiyan friend. But when he's badly injured, they both begin to learn.
Relationships: Broly/Cheelai (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33
Collections: Naughty and Nice Gift Exchange





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DBVee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DBVee/gifts).



Cheelai kind of hated to admit it, but life on Vampa wasn’t all that bad. Sure, there was quite literally nothing to do. And sure, the wildlife was hideous and fatal. But even so, it was quiet and peaceful, which was a nice change. The weird instant house thingy that guy had brought was probably the nicest place she’d ever lived. And best of all, she didn’t have the Galactic Patrol or the Frieza Force breathing down her neck. _Plus, the company isn’t bad either._ A slight blush dusted her pale green cheeks.

Although…the company was confusing. She still wasn’t sure what to make of the strange Saiyan they'd followed here. He was nice. Nicer than anyone she’d ever met, in a strangely earnest way. He had a sincerity that people can only achieve by literally never learning that lying exists. But still…she’d seen him when he lost control. And as much as she understood why he was like that, and as much as she had wanted to protect him even while he was lost in the haze of violence, she still didn’t know if she could trust him. What would happen if he got upset while she or Lemo were around? Would he hurt them the way he’d hurt those other Saiyans? The way he’d hurt Frieza? Those guys could handle him, barely, at his strength. If he lost control around her, she would simply be ripped apart. She shuddered at the thought of those fists slamming into her. Sure, he’d never been anything but gentle toward her, but even his own father felt the need to have a safety catch. As much as she hated that horrible thing he’d put on his own son…there were times she sympathized.

Lost in her thoughts, she was brought back to reality by the sound of her old crewmate’s voice outside their cave. Cheelai frowned; Lemo seemed upset about something. As she stepped out of the house, his words became clear.

“What the hell happened, kid? Are you…” Suddenly there was a loud whump of something falling, and Lemo’s voice pitched upward in panic. “Oh, crap! Chee! I need ya!”

Cheelai broke into a run. Lemo could only have been talking to one other person, and if he’s worried…

When she got to the cave entrance, she was greeted by a horrific sight. It was Broly, all right. He was laying unconscious on the ground, covered in blood. Beneath the crimson, his skin was ashen and he was breathing shallowly. _How…what could have done this to him?_ she thought in horror.

But this was no time for panic. “Lemo, go get the stretcher. We’ll need to get him on and use it as a travois to get him back to the house. We can’t possibly carry him.”

“Right,” barked her orange-skinned friend, and he took off running to the house.

She grabbed Broly’s hand. “Hey, big guy. Stay with us, okay? You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be just fine.” She wasn’t entirely sure who she was comforting.

Soon Lemo returned with the stretcher and they dragged Broly back to the house. Together, they managed to get him up to a bed. Cheelai got out the medkit. “Lemo, can you boil some water? I’m gonna need some sterile stuff to clean this.” She looked up, noticing Lemo staring at Broly with a queasy look. “You okay, old man?”

He swallowed. “Sorry, kid. Never much liked the sight of blood.”

She smiled at him. “S’okay, Lemo. I got this. Just bring me the water and then you can go look at something else.”

He smiled back gratefully and ran to the small kitchen. Cheelai busied herself pulling out sterile gauze and bandages. She also pulled out a suture kit, but she hoped she wasn’t going to need it; she wasn’t sure these needles could even make it through the Saiyan’s skin. Not for the first time, she was thankful she had been given the medic crash course when she joined the Force.

Lemo brought back the requested water, then quickly hustled off. Cheelai dipped a sterile gauze pad in the liquid and began to wash and bandage Broly’s injuries. Some were long gashes, others seemed to be deep punctures. _What the hell did this?_ she thought with unease.

One of the larger gashes on Broly’s thigh was oozing blood, and wouldn't stop no matter how much pressure she put on it. It was going to need stitches, after all. She pulled out the kit, and started to sew together the ragged sides of the wound.

As she pulled the thread through the skin, she suddenly felt an iron grip around her wrist. Surprised, she looked up to meet the soft dark eyes of her patient. The relief granted by his return to consciousness was tempered by the haze in his stare and the continued pallor of his skin. _He’s lost a lot of blood_ , she thought. And it was still coming; she could see some of the bandages turning red as the blood seeped through.

“What are you doing?” he asked warily.

“I’m sewing up your wounds, of course. This one's too big to stop bleeding without a couple stitches.”

“You shouldn’t do that. I will heal on my own. Father says it will make me stronger.”

Cheelai laughed. “No way, pal. I’m not going to be the one to explain to Lemo why you’re leaving blood trails everywhere.” She reached toward him with the needle, but stopped when he pulled away, his muscles tensing.

“I’ll be fine. I don't need that..stuff.” His eyes were wide, and he was breathing rapidly, like a cornered animal.

Broly pushed himself upright and threw his legs over the side of the bed. “Wait, what are you doing?” Cheelai protested. “Lay back down!” She reached toward him, but froze as he flinched away from her touch.

“I’m fine.” He began to stand. As soon as he lifted off the bed, however, his eyelids fluttered and his knees buckled. Alarmed, Cheelai reached out to break his fall. His bulk was at least twice her own, but she barely managed to keep him off the floor.

“You are NOT fine, Broly,” she snapped. “You are _hurt_. You need to _rest_. You need _help_.” She took a deep breath. He didn’t need her to be angry right now. In a softer voice, she said, “Please, let me help you.”

Broly allowed her to help him back into bed, but as she reached for the suture, he shook his head.

“Okay, fine,” she relented. “I won’t touch your injuries, if you promise to lay back and rest.”

He stared for a moment, then nodded. His head fell back into the pillow, and he closed his eyes. She sat with him, making sure he wasn’t losing _too_ much blood. Eventually, she satisfied herself that he wasn’t going to bleed out on her.

 _If he’s not going to let me fix his wounds, at least I can probably get him to eat something_ , she thought. She pulled a can of soup out of a pantry capsule and heated it on the kitchen's small stove. Some liquid and nutrients would be good for him.

The smell of food must have brought Broly some energy, as he was struggling to a seated position when she returned. He nodded in thanks as she handed him the bowl. As he ate, she studied him. He seemed to have a little more color, at least.

“What happened, Broly?” Cheelai asked as he finished his food.

His eyes dropped and he turned his head away from her. “Nothing.”

She frowned. “Obviously, it wasn’t nothing! You are hurt. Badly hurt! ‘Nothing’ didn’t do _this_ to you!”

“It was…it isn’t important.”

 _Oh, hell no. He’s not getting away with this_. Her frustration had reached its limit, and she’d never been particularly good at holding her temper. Probably why she had ended up with that argument with that Galactic Patrolman that had ended with him pointing the gun at her, and her jumping into his patrol car to get away.

“Okay, enough! If there is something out there that is dangerous enough to do this to you, then it’s actually _really_ important, Broly! Because if it can hurt you like this, then Lemo and I will be monster food in seconds if we come across it.”

Broly furrowed his brow. “No, he…that wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it.” He raised his eyes to meet hers and the care she saw there melted her anger away.

“Just, tell me?” She took his hand in hers. “Please.”

He looked troubled. “It was only a Vampa beast.”

 _What?_ That didn’t make sense. “Broly, you could beat a Vampa beast with your eyes closed. There is no way one could do… _this_ to you.” She gestured vaguely toward his wounded…everything.

He didn’t answer. He was hiding something. _Broly? Hiding something?_ That was…unusual to say the least. Cheelai had known a lot of liars in her life. Hell, she was a great liar herself. But she had never known Broly to be anything but a completely open book; one of the reasons she liked him so much.

Okay, she was going to have to break out the big guns. Softly, she brought his hand to her cheek and leaned into it. “Please. Tell me.” She was just trying to get him to open up. She wasn’t doing it because the feel of his rough hand was sending chills down her back. Definitely not because of that.

She saw him swallow, warring thoughts churning behind his soft eyes. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He pulled back his hand, turned his head and murmured, “I don’t want you to hurt him.”

 _Hurt him? Hurt who?_ Her confusion only increased with his answer. She sighed, and was about to ask him what he meant, when her attention was drawn to the hand he’d just withdrawn. It had dropped to his waist, and his fingers were softly stroking the bloody pelt he had tied there. Suddenly, everything fell into place. Gently, Cheelai asked, “Broly, was it Ba?”

He looked at her, miserable, and slowly nodded. “I was out hunting, and I saw him. There was only one ear, so I knew it was him. I thought maybe now that Father…” he trailed off, blinking his eyes against the tears she saw gathering.

“You went to him. You thought maybe you could be friends with him again.” She said softly, sadly. He was so wonderfully innocent. He thought that an animal would somehow know who had hurt him. Would know that person couldn’t hurt him again, would know he was safe.

Broly nodded. “But Ba’s still angry with me. He bit me, and he kept biting me. He’s never going to like me again.” His voice broke on the last word. “It’s not his fault, though. Please don’t hurt him.”

Her heart was breaking. He had been savagely mauled, but he still only wanted to protect his old friend. Protect his friend from _her_.

 _Oh. Oh, poor sweet boy._ All this time she’d been thinking about whether they could trust Broly not to hurt them…he was wondering the same thing about her. Whether she would hurt him. It was understandable; he’d never had anyone simply _love_ him before. He’d never had anyone who would never hurt him.

 _Wait._ Her mind caught on her last thoughts. _Love? Is that what I…_

She reached down to take his hand again, winding her small fingers between his. She made sure to leave their entwined hands where they lay against the soft green fur. Her other hand reached up to stroke his cheek. His eyes widened, looking at her in confusion.

Gods, how much pain must he have been in? As the enormous teeth sliced and crushed him, how must it have hurt? But he hadn’t fought back—his injuries showed that. He was _so_ strong, if he’d fought back at all, he wouldn’t have been so wounded. Even with all the pain the beast had caused, Broly had never fought back. He hadn't hurt Ba, because he cared about Ba. _Like he cares about us_ , she thought. _Like he cares about me._

She gave him a gentle smile. “I won’t hurt him, Broly. I promise, I won’t ever hurt him.” _I won’t ever hurt you._

He regarded her for long moments. Then, he gently turned his head to lean into her hand. “Okay,” he said. “Thank you.” Cheelai’s heart was pounding from his words. Simple as they were, they meant so much. He smiled up at her. “If you want to put that thread in my skin, that’s okay,” he said.

She returned his smile. “Okay. I’ll be gentle.” She finished sewing up his thigh wound, then she pulled his hand. “Lean forward so I can treat your back, okay?” They sat in a comfortable silence as she sat behind him and finished the job of cleaning and bandaging.

When she finished, she impulsively threw her arms around him. Pressing her hands to his chest and her cheek to the back of his head, she murmured, “Hey, Broly. Tomorrow, let’s go find Ba. We’ll bring him some food.”

Broly twisted around so he could see her face. His brow was furrowed. “Bring him food? Why?”

“Because when something’s been hurt, it’s hard for them to trust anyone for a while.” She brought her hand up and ran her thumb softly against his lower lip. “But if you are patient and show that you aren’t going to hurt them, they’ll come around. It will take time, but they’ll come around. And they’ll trust you.”

Understanding flashed in his eyes. He leaned toward her, and her breath caught as he gently, so gently, touched his lips to hers. She closed her eyes, relishing the closeness of his body. After what felt like a wonderful eternity, Broly pulled away and smiled at her. “Yes. They will.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the 2020 Naughty and Nice gift exchange, for DBVee. 
> 
> Happy Frieza Day!


End file.
